You Won't Feel Any Pain
by Andi de Tarauger
Summary: In the same vein as Don't You Fret by Mikimei - a rather different take on Eponine's death. Blood. Angst. Major canon-changing. A not-so-nice, revenge-hungry Eponine with a gun. You have been adequately warned ^.~


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A/N: Yes, this fic was MY idea. No, I am not copying Mori. Yes, it was her pic. Yes, the pic was my idea too. Yes, I really should stop this and get onto the actual A/N.

Anyway...as I was saying, this is the accompanying piece to Mori's (brilliant) pic (). Explanation of pic: it was just a normal day, until Mori decided to take a "finish the Les Mis lyric" quiz. One of the questions was, "Don't you fret, m'sieur Marius..." and one of the options was, "You won't feel any pain!" I commented that this sounded like Éponine was standing behind Marius with a gun to his head, and proceeded to command Mori to illustrate this. D;; So she did, and the piece was born!

Then one day, in a chat, I commented that I was extremely bored and was going to write a companion piece to the fic. Well, Mori managed to get to it before me, the dratted girl! =P But my fic's the original, of course. XD

So...yes, I know this is very OOC. And I seem to be switching between normal-'Ponine and cruel, heartless, scheming 'Ponine. Go figure. ; Yes, I know that Marius (unfortunately) doesn't die in the book/musical, and that Éponine would probably NOT kill him. And yes, I realize that I am, quite hypocritically, changing canon, big time. Go me. ^^;;;

I honestly don't think the PG-13 rating is completely necessary, but this does have mild cursing and some, er, description with blood and such. Better to overrate then to get sued because some kid gets traumatized from the fic. *g* So PG-13 it is.

Disclaimer: Éponine, Marius, 'Parnasse and the others all belong to Victor Hugo, who is probably turning in his grave at my perversion of Eppie and her death scene. ^^;; The song "A Little Fall of Rain" and the rest of the musical belongs to Boubil and Schonburg, I believe.

Anyway...I hope you'll like it...I did, myself, even though it ended up being darker and longer than I'd expected it, but I'd appreciate reviews even if you didn't. ^.^

As always, my e-mail's high_elf_andi@hotmail.com and my site's . Drop me a line or visit it - I'd appreciate that muchly as well :D

Peace out,  
~Andi~

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~ You Won't Feel Any Pain ~

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Don't you fret, m'sieur Marius,  
I don't feel any pain...  
A little fall of rain  
Can hardly hurt me now...

Always, it had been me. I was the one my father blamed for the loss of our inn. I was the one that Montparnasse let his drunken anger out on. I was the one that my father beat when my mother wasn't there. I was the one who fell in love with someone who couldn't care less about me. And, of course, I was the one that helped to bring him to the one he _did _love.

It was always, oh, poor 'Ponine, her life is so cold and dark and demanding, it must be so horrible, I'm so sorry for you, but they never did anything to help me.

No one ever did anything, and I was sick of it.

Monsier Marius. A shudder ran through me as I thought of him, even as I sought out his form among the young men at the barricades – a shudder that was warm and happy, tragic, furious and annoyed all at once. The latter two emotions were particularly stronger as my eyes, scanning the dirt-and-bloodstained ground, rested on a pistol. It must have been dropped by one of the men, while they were running about – I didn't care. I leapt for it, feeling the cool metal under my hand. My fingers found the trigger, and a pleasant, anticipatory shiver ran through me.

Then, as I was raising my head, still shivering anxiously, I saw him. Monsieur Marius, looking at a powder-keg near the back room of the tavern. And at the same instant, my blood ran cold and my heart froze – a soldier was aiming his gun at him.

My thoughts flew by, horrified and nervous. _No. No, don't shoot him. You can't shoot him, you can't kill him. I won't let you kill him...I'm so close now, so close. You can't kill him...I'm going to._

I ran forward, one hand still on the pistol. Without thinking, I clapped my hand over the gun. And, of course, the rest of my body was conveniently positioned behind said hand.

Pain exploded through me – first in my hand, then in my body as the bullet ripped through my flesh. I could feel my bones crack under it, my muscles tear, and warm blood begin to flow down my torso. Unable to bear it, my knees gave way, and I crumbled to the ground.

There was no way out of it. My blood poured from both my hand, which had a clean hole through it, dripping dark red blood onto the stones below (I looked away quickly) and from my chest, staining my smock and trousers before dripping to the ground, where it rested in deep red pools. A tear gathered into my eye, both from the pain and from the realization. There was no way out of it now. I was going to die.

I was going to die, and I would never get a chance for revenge.

I bit my lip fiercely, forcing the tears back. No. I wouldn't give way to the pain, not yet. The bullet had hit my chest, but not my heart. It would be some time yet before the pain forced me into oblivion. I still had time.

The hand that wasn't wounded closed around the gun again, and I began to crawl. I forced my arm upward, planting my elbow into the ground and pulling myself forward. My chest shrieked in protest as I moved, dropping blood everywhere, and I cursed under my breath, nearly screaming out loud from the pain. I kept going, crawling forward, to find Marius.

Ironic. It was so ironic that the man that hated me, the man I had been in love with, was the one that, even now, had caused me pain.

I had loved Monsieur Marius. I had been captured by that beauty, his handsome face like a gleam of sunlight in the cloudy sky. The intelligence in his eyes, the warmth in his voice, and his entire demeanor had taken my soul and consumed my mind since I first saw him. I would have given him my heart in its whole, shared my secrets with him, and done absolutely anything he asked...but he didn't ask. He never even acknowledged me – I was another faceless gamine in the labyrinth of Paris. He had never even noticed my love – never noticed the way I looked at him, the gentle tone I used with him, and even the broadest hints that I dropped were ignored.

Slowly, the love gave way to simply infatuation, and then it dropped back even further. It started when I learned of Cosette. It was as if a black hole had opened in my soul – I couldn't believe that the girl I'd grown up with was now stealing the love of the one man I had ever felt so deeply towards. She didn't deserve him – she knew nothing about him. She hadn't watched him as I had, hadn't memorized the lines of his face, and his voice could never, never make her heart leap as mine did. The seeds of hate began to sprout then – I had thought the hate was for Cosette, and it wasn't until much after that I learned it was really Marius I had begun to hate then.

It was a crazy paradox. I hated Marius, but I loved him. I felt that tenderness towards him still when I heard his name, but he had caused me so much pain. Those nights I lied awake, crying, praying to God for Marius' love...those restless walks I had taken, shivering in the little clothes I had...the times I had convinced myself that it was all my fault, that something was wrong with _me_. Slowly, all emotion had drained from my soul, leaving me numb to all thoughts save one: revenge. I wanted to make Marius suffer – I wanted to show him how much he had hurt me, and then hurt him thricefold. He had not only broken my heart; he had stolen it, squeezed it dry of love, then shattered it into a million pieces and ground it to dust beneath his heel. That was something I couldn't forgive. I could take my father's words, as he yelled at me some nights..._you bitch, you horrible child, you useless, shiftless whore...you're worth nothing, no one gives a shit about you..._because I knew that they were true. I could take 'Parnasse's fury as he slapped me and beat me, because I knew it was punishment for everything I had ever done wrong. But what Marius had done to me couldn't be tolerated – no one messed with my heart. It was the most sacred part of me. The thought that I could pay Marius back for all those sleepless nights and anguish-filled days was all that kept me alive.

And, yes, the innocent, infatuated child in me wanted to keep Marius from Cosette. While I was at it, I might as well hurt her too.

Then, suddenly, as if in a burst of light, I saw him. Monsieur Marius was approaching me. Biting back my pain, I called out to him.

"Monsier Marius!"

He stopped. He froze in his tracks, not moving, and I knew he'd heard me. My heart began to race. Finally. After so long, I would have my revenge.

"Monsieur Marius!"

This time, he began searching for the source of the voice. I wasn't sure that he knew it was me. I slipped the pistol into my pocket. Couldn't have him suspecting now.

"I'm at your feet. Don't you recognize me?"

He knelt before me, turning his face towards me. There was a look of confusion on his soft features, and he brushed a strand of hair out of his face, shaking his head no. My heart skipped a beat – come on, 'Ponine. Focus. You can't get distracted now. Especially not by the man you're about to kill.

"Éponine."

I saw consternation and shock fly across his features. He leaned forward and managed to say, "How do you come to be here? What are you doing?"

"I'm dying." That should stir him up a little – maybe strike some compassion into the heart that had so long been cold towards me - and besides, it was the truth.

Marius let out a cry. "You're wounded! I'll carry you into the tavern. They'll dress your wound." Beginning to babble in urgency, he looked around for help. I stopped listening to what he was saying until he touched my hand, right across the wound. I let out a cry of pain.

"Did I hurt you?"

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Did he hurt me?

That was the last straw. I slid my wounded hand into my pocket, fingering the letter that was there. Cosette's letter. I had kept it from him in jealousy, and also in knowledge that he would never need to see it. Not anymore.

"A little, now." I grimaced, pulling the letter out of my pocket. A grin flitted across my face. "But before...more than you could ever imagine. And now...now, Monsieur Marius, it's my turn."

His mouth opened slightly in surprise. He had no idea what I meant.

I crumpled the letter in my wounded hand. No one could read it now – the ink had run, and the paper was covered with blood. In one swift motion, I shoved the paper into his mouth.

Marius let out a choked, strangled cry. The bitter taste of blood and ink filled his mouth, combined with the choking pressure of the large letter. I allowed my smile to widen – he wouldn't scream and interrupt me. Not now.

I acted quickly. Shoving my pain into a corner of my mind, I leapt to my feet and grabbed both of his hands in mine. I forced them behind him back and gripped both of his wrists with my wounded hand. They felt cold and clammy under my heated skin. I could feel his pulse racing against my fingers. The sudden movements had made my hand start bleeding more fiercely, and I was starting to feel a little lightheaded. The blood from my wound flew over his hands, tainting them. The trickle made him shudder and twitch, obviously terrified, horrified, and utterly unable to think straight anymore.

My good hand went to my other pocket, drawing out the pistol. My fingers closed around the trigger again, and I shuddered, because my revenge was so close. Teasingly, I brushed the back of Marius' neck with the pistol.

He instantly recognized the feel of it. I didn't need to see his face to know that realization was spreading across it. His entire body stiffened, then sagged.

My wounded hand was numb. Blood was now covering Marius' hands, making them liquid and shiny, and slippery to hold onto. Just a few more minutes. I pressed the pistol against the back of Marius' neck and leaned over to speak into his ear.

"You know, Monsier Marius, I loved you." The words were a struggle to get out as I slowly lost more blood, but they had to be said. "I loved you more than anything...you meant so much to me. But you never saw it...I would have layed down my life at your feet, done anything for you. You were my whole world, but you never saw it. All the worse for you." I let a low laugh escape my lips as Marius struggled, ever so slightly. I leaned in closer, feeling my body press closer to his. The blood from my wound dripped down his clothes, staining them forever. "I'm going to die, Monsieur Marius. I'm going to die. I'm going to die very, very soon. And you are going to die with me."

My fingers caressed the gun's trigger. My breath was coming shorter and shorter...I could barely feel my own pulse now. I was getting lightheaded, and only one thought was clear in my mind. _Pull the trigger._

And I leaned into Marius' ear to whisper my final words to him. My final words before I pulled the trigger and ended both of our lives. My final words before the click, and the bang, and he fell forward, lifeless – and I fell with him. My final words before my fingers pressed down on the trigger, killing Marius and going into death with him.

"Don't you fret, Monsieur Marius...you won't feel any pain."

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~ Fin ~

A/N: *blinkblink* Wow, that was incredibly dark, depressing, and bloody. *grin* I liked it! ^^; Review, pleaseth, I'd appreciate it muchly...once again, constructive criticism is the most useful gift! Thanks for getting this far! ;)


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